After you’ve gone,
who shall I have to cook for...
to hold the other end of the wish-bone...
chew over the fat with at dinner...
to argue black was white with –
to turn my most expensive shirt
into Joseph’s Technicolor Dream-coat...
albeit amazing...
to paint me pictures
of off-kilter rainbows...
to find my glasses, and car-keys,
to convince me that soufflés
taste better the less they rise?
You are part of every piece
of the patchwork of my life;
the thread its sewn with –
the cord – binds the seams...
and no...you’re right, of course,
as you always are – the clocks
won’t stop; telephones still persist
on ringing – time won’t cease
to exist...just march on, regardless –
but without any hands. Except
after you’ve gone,
who will I have
to fill my dreams with,
and who else would even think
of loving this ramshackle,
tumbledown shack of a man
you think I am.
Comments
Esther | April 27, 2012 - 14:47
What a poignant poem; your poem contains a great mix of life.....very moving....will need to read this again and again.
skinner_jennifer | April 27, 2012 - 15:31
Hi Tina,
this poem puts a relationship in perspective.
What I mean is, it's very true what they say,
'you don't know how much you miss someone until
they're gone.'
But if you can always keep in mind to be nice to loved ones, then this poem said it all for me.
A thoughtful poem Tina.
Jenny.
Silver Spun Sand | April 27, 2012 - 16:21
Pleased you thought so, Esther. Many thanks;-)
Tina
Silver Spun Sand | April 27, 2012 - 16:23
How very true, Jenny. Pleased this made such an impact on you and many thanks for letting me know;)
Tina
InspiredWriter | April 27, 2012 - 17:00
This is really lovely
Sarah x
Silver Spun Sand | April 27, 2012 - 17:15
Sarah...good of you to drop by and I am really glad you enjoyed this;-) Thank you, and I hope you have a lovely weekend.
Tinan x
Denzella | April 28, 2012 - 01:19
Tina,
Am I right in thinking inspiration for this came from someone wanting you to find expression for something someone close wanted to say but couldn't find the words.
Either way a beautiful expression of love.
Moya
Silver Spun Sand | April 28, 2012 - 07:54
Moya - you are always so inspired with your thinking;-) A sixth sense, perhaps.
Many thanks.
Tina ;-)x
scratch | April 28, 2012 - 09:24
Super effort Siver, heartfelt with not a hint of sentimentality.
Silver Spun Sand | April 28, 2012 - 10:05
Hi there, scratch. Pleased you thought so;-)
Silver
rjnewlyn | April 30, 2012 - 21:50
Wonderful. Very nearly made me cry ... (it takes a lot!)
Rob
Silver Spun Sand | May 1, 2012 - 08:47
Oh dear, Rob...hope you had some tissues handy;-)
Seriously though, many, many thanks.
Tina
Sooz006 | May 1, 2012 - 17:06
I loved the line about the soufle. You're right the mark of love is somebody who tells you it's better for the fact that it didn't rise. I live with a housemate. I am expected to have a roast dinner on the table every night. The same meal day in day out, he isn't adventurous. I offer a change and he says he'd rather not. I ask him if it's okay and get the same reply nightly,'It's edible, I suppose.'
I made a souffle once and he said, 'Well, it's all right, but it's just a posh omlette isn't it?'
Hence the reason that he is now a housemate and not a partner
So this one really touched me. Well done.
Silver Spun Sand | May 1, 2012 - 18:46
Hi there, Sooz. Your friend was so right about a souffle being nothing more than a 'posh omlette';-)
I have real problems with getting my Yorkshire puds to rise, but my long-enduring other half never complains, and always says 'No one can make Yorkshire's quite the way you can', and he never spoke a truer word;-)
Many thanks for your lovely comment, which was so full of insight. More than appreciated.
Tina